So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

Sometimes I feel so invisible. Maybe you do too. Let me explain.

I am a wife and a mother. I am also a home school mom. Deep down, I know that the tasks and jobs that fill my day are valuable. But sometimes I just feel invisible. Do you ever feel this way, too?

My days are filled to the brim with serving others (mainly little people) in ways that can often seem trivial, mundane, and completely pointless. My work is often undone so very quickly that is seems so very unimportant. Much of my time is spent training and teaching in skills that are so hard to measure. I’m sure many of you can relate!

Thoughts like these start to fill my mind:

“Am I really making a difference? Does anything I do really matter? Does anyone notice how much work I am doing, how much love I am pouring into the lives that surround me, how much effort I am putting into my roles as a mother and wife?”

But then my thoughts turn to God’s word and I know that that those thoughts are not the truth. I remembered the story of Hagar, who after being thrown out of Abraham’s home was wandering in the desert with her hungry, thirsty son. She, too, remembered the truth, that someone saw her.

Something I love about God is that he is so indescribably wonderful that he has many names. And one of his names is El Roi, which translates as “The God Who Sees Me.” Genesis 16:13 says, Hagar said, “She gave this name to the LORD who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” When nobody else cared for her or saw her, she realized that there was her God who saw her.

And guess what? I (and you too!) can be encouraged because this is the same God who still is seeing. He sees me. He sees everything I do. To put this in practical terms, I am choosing to think about Him in these ways…

-He sees when I chose to use kind, patient words with my children instead of being harsh.

-He sees me when I am gentle and humble with my husband instead of being demanding.

-He sees when I care for my home in seemingly meaningless ways (loading the dishwasher once again, Windexing the backdoor that is perpetually covered in fingerprints, making yet another snack)

-He sees when I reach out to a lonely neighbor or friend.

-He sees me when I read the children’s Bible story at breakfast and just hope that some of its message sticks

-He sees me push swings, pull wagons, or play trucks on the floor instead of browsing Facebook.

Ladies, isn’t it encouraging to know that our Heavenly Father is watching over us and truly sees us? And he values all of the little things that we are doing for him. He knows that we are loving our kids and husbands and caring for our homes. He sees how we try so hard to do what is right and to serve these precious lives around us. When I meditate on this truth, it makes my roles and all of these tasks so much more meaningful. It gives me the strength to carry on.

Thank you God that I am not invisible. Thank you for really SEEING me. Thank you for caring about all of the little things in my life. Help me to remember these truths as I go about my busy days.

Annie Boyd

Annie Boyd was raised on a farm in Iowa. She graduated from The University of Northwestern in St. Paul with a degree in elementary education. She is married to her high school sweetheart, and they have five children. She loves being a stay-at-home mom and homeschooling her kids. She blogs with her family over at http://www.theginghamapron.com/

Jesus Meets Me in Motherhood With His No Matter What Love

In: Faith, Motherhood
Mother embracing daughter in sunlit room

My toddler was that kid on the playground—the one who would push and bite, erupting into a tantrum and needing to be carried home screaming. As I would carry my child to the car, the other moms looked at me with sympathy, confusion, fear, and . . . judgment.  Parents of challenging kids know this look well. We see judgment everywhere we go. I knew others were judging me, and I knew our challenges were beyond the normal bell curve, but as an overwhelmed young mom, I did all I knew to do: I blamed myself.  At my lowest, I...

Keep Reading

Dear Child, God Sees All of You—And So Do I

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mom and young son painting together

Math has always come easily to him. Even from the beginning stages when we counted wooden blocks on the living room floor, the numbers just came to him. “How many blocks are there?” I asked him, pointing to the scattered row of blocks. I expected him to count them. He was only three or four years old. “Six,” he answered promptly. “Yes . . . but how did you know that?” I asked hesitantly. He had not taken the time necessary to have counted them. “Three and three are six,” he replied. And on it went. The math came easily,...

Keep Reading

Dear Girl, Give Jesus Your Mess

In: Faith, Living
Woman holding Bible, color photo

Oh, dear girl, Give Jesus the mess. Your mess. The mess you think is too much or too big or too unbearable. The depths of the mess. The very worst of the mess. Lay it at His feet. He knew you long before the mess existed. Nobody knows your mess like Jesus. I assure you—this will not catch Him by surprise. Even when you do not understand, even when it is most difficult, even when you have your head buried in your hands. Praise Him, for God wastes nothing.  Even when it feels like opposition is coming at you from...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Love Is an Endless Pursuit

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Child on bike, color photo

I look at him and my heart breaks into a million little pieces. It simply hurts too much to know he hurts. He is my heart, and it squeezes and revolts when he struggles. I want to close my eyes and hold him close, and when I resurface, I want the world to be different for him. Look different, smell different, taste different. But, it remains the same, this pain.   In the beginning, when he was in my womb, I held my hands on my stomach and his tiny feet kicked me back. His bodily imprint on my skin. He...

Keep Reading

Motherhood Brings Me to the Floor and Jesus Meets Me There

In: Faith, Motherhood

I recently came across a short memoir writing competition with the theme, “Places that have made me, changed me, or inspired me.” I could write something for that, I thought. I’m by no means a jet-setter, but I do have a passport. I spent my 16th birthday in Russia on a three-week mission trip. During college, I lived in Thessaloniki, Greece for a four-month study abroad program. After my British husband and I got married, we settled in the UK, where we’ve spent the last 10 years. And now, I’m back in my sunny Florida hometown. These experiences and places...

Keep Reading

I Will Be a Friend Who Prays

In: Faith, Friendship, Living

You mentioned it casually. They had found a lump in your breast again. You’ve been here before, and maybe that means you better know how to navigate it. Except how can we possibly know how to handle such things? What emotions lie hidden behind your words? You tossed out words like lumpectomy and biopsy as if you were sharing a grocery list. I don’t know you well yet, but as you spoke the words, I had a deep desire to let you know I’m sorry. Seated around the table that night, you asked us to pray for you. I committed...

Keep Reading

I Wish I Could Tell You There Will Be No More Mean Girls

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and two daughters, color photo

Tonight before bed while I was tucking you in, you seemed really down. You are normally bubbly, talkative, full of laughter and life, but tonight you seemed sullen and sad. I asked what was wrong, and at first, you didn’t want to tell me. But then you shared with me what was breaking your heart. You told me about a mean girl. You told me the hurtful things she said and the unkind way she acted and the sneaky way mean girls bully by making you feel left out and less than.  It made me sad and angry. I didn’t...

Keep Reading

In the Hardest Moments of Motherhood, I’m Reminded to Look Up

In: Faith, Motherhood

It’s 3:00 in the afternoon, and you know the scene—I step on a tiny Barbie shoe as I’m walking to the sink. I shove it to the side with my foot and release a heavy sigh. I momentarily think about picking it up, but my back is aching from bending down to gather up treasures all morning. I place my half-filled coffee cup into the microwave to re-heat it for a second time. I need just an ounce of energy to get through the afternoon. My daughter heaves another basket of toys up from the basement, step by step. I can...

Keep Reading

Sometimes God’s Glory Shines Brightest in the Hardest Parts of Life

In: Faith, Living
Woman's hand with chipped nail polish

Half of the fingernails on my hands still show remnants of nail polish. It looks pretty awful. People might notice it and think, Really? You can’t take just five minutes to wipe off the chunks of color that haven’t flaked off already?  And I could. It probably wouldn’t even take five minutes. It’s not that I don’t have the time or that I’m being lazy. I just don’t want to.  You see, my daughter painted my nails almost a month ago. She’s five—they were never pretty to start with. They were sloppy with small strips at the edges left unpainted....

Keep Reading

God Tasked Us With Raising Beautiful People in a Fallen World

In: Faith, Motherhood

Today, I watched my little boy put an oven mitt over his hand and mix up an imaginary meal. Like any mother would be, I was touched to see my son enjoying himself—playing fearlessly in the Children’s Museum and exploring with many fun and creative toys. He would open the wooden fridge and purposely put a spatula in a specific compartment. Though his reasoning was not known to me—or anyone else for that matter—you could tell he had a plan for that metal spatula, and it was to be in that freezer. RELATED: The Secret No One Told Me About...

Keep Reading

 5 Secrets to Connect with Your Kids

FREE EMAIL BONUS

Proven techniques to build REAL connections